Together -Rositara-

Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first The Walking Dead fanfic so don't be too harsh. Apologies for any inaccuracy. Set after the events of the season 5 finale/at the beginning of 6x01 - Tara has an injury to her head.

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"Hey! Hey, hey!" Rosita echoed, concerned, "what do you think you're doing?"

Much to Rosita's despair, Tara had, unsuccessfully, attempted to sit herself up on the bed and slide her legs off of it whilst her much-too-worried friend had her back turned - which was rarely.

"I've been here, in this bed, for days, Rosita. Days." She groaned, "I just need to stretch my legs for a minute, just one minute, pretty please?" Tara extended her bottom lip to make it look like she was a child crying, which Rosita couldn't help but giggle at.

With Tara giving one of her smiles that fit her "everything's okay - the world has gone to shit and I almost died, but everything's okay" attitude perfectly, Rosita resorted to giving in - reluctantly, of course - and closed in on the side of the bed so that she could help lift Tara out of it. She had put herself in charge of taking care of Tara since the incident that had knocked her unconscious for days on end, and that included keeping a 24 hour surveillance check on her head injury. You could never be too sure with knocks to the head, they were always a worry, and Rosita was always worried about Tara.

The injured party of whom was now sitting up and perched on the left side of the bed she had been confined to - with an apprehensive Rosita clung to her side as if she were the last living thing on the planet - not that there was many of them, nowadays.

Tara sighed, "I got this, Rosita."

"I got you." She replied, and then hastily continued, "I mean, I got your back." Rosita grinned, awkwardly, making Tara smirk as she quickly carried on. "You sure you got this? Because I don't mind... You know... Helping."

Tara nodded, so Rosita disinclined herself from the girl's body, unwillingly taking a hesitant step back so that Tara could start moving.

As Tara goes to take a step forward from the support of the bed, her head goes dizzy and she loses control of her legs as they go stiff beneath her, causing her to almost plummet to the ground below her. Just as she imagines herself toppling forward, Rosita shoots an arm under Tara's body, keeping her from hitting the floor and bringing her back up to face her.

Tara's face goes bright red, and she gives a soft smile to Rosita as a form of "thank you". She's now to realize her position; face-to-face with the other girl, Rosita's arm strapped around her body and the other arm forming a tight grip on her opposite shoulder. They're both smiling wide, feeling safe in each other's arms - safer than they've felt in months, anyway. 

The two of them hover in that position for a long moment, before Tara unfavourably pulls her arm off of Rosita's back and to her own forehead, murmuring "ouch" repeatedly, as she notices her head has began to bleed again.

Rosita furrows her eyebrows tensely, shaking herself from the moment and easing Tara back up straight, gently. "I thought you said you had that?"

Tara had slumped back onto her bed, one arm leaning on the mattress and the other still clenched onto Rosita's arm, not wanting to let go just yet.

Rosita grooved her eyebrows some more, waiting expectantly for an answer from Tara, whom shrugged and said, "thank you," sincerely, in case she hadn't got the message earlier. Of course, she didn't just mean for catching her (although, she was more than grateful that she hadn't face-planted the floor in front of the girl she had a crush on) - but she knew Rosita had been by her side since she had sustained the injury and it meant a lot that she had been. "For everything."

Applying a damp cloth to her head lightly, Rosita smiled, "I said I had you, didn't I?" Tara squirmed away from the warmth of the cloth that was making the top of her head feel like it was being torn apart by a walker - the dreadful sting was far worse now than what it had been when she had first woken up.

Rosita, however, continued to press the fabric gently but surely onto her wound, assuring it was as clean as possible and throwing in the occasional, but meaningful, apology whenever Tara fidgeted.

"It hurts like a bitch." Tara announced, stating the obvious.

Rosita stared up at her, as she was currently crouched down to access Tara's forehead, "I know, I know. I'm sorry." She abandoned the cloth to the bedside table that also held an almost-empty glass of water and a hand pistol. "But you have lost a lot of blood, Tar, so it isn't surprising that you went lightheaded when you tried to walk, dumbass." Tara laughed, leaning back on the pillow asserted on her bed, as Rosita continued, "one step at a time, okay?"

She nodded. "One step at a time."

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